


Knowing

by CaesarVulpes



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Flashbacks, Gen, M/M, Nightmares, Panic Attacks, Past Rape/Non-con, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Scarecrow is gentle for once, the riddler is fragile, there are some areas where crane is not evil
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-03
Updated: 2016-04-03
Packaged: 2018-05-30 21:53:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6442342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaesarVulpes/pseuds/CaesarVulpes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He tries to keep it hidden, but he suspects they already know.<br/>Edward tries to deal with past traumas alone, without realizing he isn't.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Knowing

He’s sleeping on Selina’s couch the first time he suspects. Sleep has always been a gamble for him, and it doesn’t go his way this time. He wakes in a cold sweat, barely manages to stop himself screaming, doesn’t manage to keep himself from breaking down in the middle of her living room and vomiting all over her rug. He’s always had a weak stomach when it comes to stress.

The thought of how angry she will be when she finds out he ruined her carpet turns it into a full blown panic attack. He’s almost managed to stomp down the memories, and then there are hands on him and he screams, lashes out. He even manages to sort of stagger towards the door before his legs give. Selina’s nose is bleeding.

“I’m sorry,” he says, his breath too fast, “I’m sorry I’m so sorry I’m sorry—“

She shushes him and takes his hands gently. He breathes with her for ten minutes trying to stop crying all over everything. She tells him she doesn’t care about the rug, which is a lie but one he appreciates. She doesn’t ask, and he’s grateful but he can’t help but think she knows.

The second time, he’s begrudgingly working with the Joker and a borrowed thug asks him how much for a blowjob. He’s dimly aware of burying his knife in the man’s throat. Then he’s in someone’s bathroom, retching, and Harley is apologizing through the door. He thinks she knows.

The third time he’s with them both, Harley and Selina, just trying to have a little normal for once, and someone grabs his ass. Eddie freezes. He thinks he might know him, might have fucked him. The voice is familiar but it’s hard to hear over Harley and Selina shouting. His skin crawls. There’s pain in his knees and he realizes he’s on the ground and he can’t breathe. They try to talk to him and all he can manage is that he wants to go home. They take him. He tells them everything. They already know.

The fourth time he’s trying to collect himself after a particularly unpleasant and nosy therapy session and Joker is trying to get a rise from him. Calls him ‘whore’ to his face. Eddie means to attack this time. He means to tackle him to the ground and try to beat his fucking face in, and Joker is laughing so hard he swallows one of his own teeth. He knows.

The fifth time he’s sleeping in Scarecrow’s spare bedroom, such as it is. It could really be called _theirs_ at this point because they’ve been fucking for a month now. He has another nightmare, and he can’t handle it. He wakes up screaming, wants to die because how could he have been so stupid to stay _here_? He wants to die. He would rather die.

Crane comes up the stairs, grinning, and Eddie can see him open his mouth through the haze of tears.

“Please,” he says, “please don’t. Not this. _Please._ ”

He expects it to be the last thing he says before Crane peels his brain open with a needle, and instead there’s a heavy coat around his shoulders. Its weight and its smell of straw and cigarettes help ground him in the present. God, Crane knows. Eddie doesn't know how, but he knows. 

“I have standards, Edward.”

He tells Crane. He tells him about being seventeen and starving, being offered food and being too weak to refuse. Being told that his would-be savior knew his father, being held down, bitten, used, and screaming and bleeding and coming back twice more because he’d die if his father found him. Being called Whore the whole time. Tearing the man’s throat out with his teeth because he had nothing else to hurt him with. The nightmares, the bruises, the flashbacks and triggers and panic attacks. Tells him about times he hasn’t let himself think of that way, of pressure and prying and saying yes because he’d get hit if he said no, because it was the only way to make them stay.

It’s the first time the word _rape_ leaves his mouth.

Jonathan asks if he can touch him, and he says yes without considering the possibilities. Long arms wrap around him and Jonathan is much, much warmer than he thought he would be. The irony of Jonathan Crane being the one to comfort him isn’t lost on him, and he realizes he’s laughing but nothing has ever been less funny. He laughs until he’s crying so hard he can’t breathe.

Jonathan rocks him.

“I won’t use this,” Jonathan tells him softly, “I promise.”

Eddie nods weakly. He knows.


End file.
